CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Phyllis and Jinn raised their heads from the manuscript over which they had been bending together and looked at each other for some time without saying a word.

“A likely story,” said Jinn at last, forcing a smile to his lips.

Phyllis remained wrapped in thought. Certain parts of the story had moved her and seemed to contain a germ of truth. She said so to her companion.

“It just shows there are poets everywhere, in every corner of the cosmos, and practical jokers, too.”

She pondered over this, but was not so easily convinced as he was. However, she reluctantly agreed.

“You’re right, Jinn. That’s what I think. . . . Rational men? Men endowed with a mind? Men inspired by intelligence? No, that’s not possible; there the author has gone too far. But it’s a pity!”

“I quite agree,” said Jinn. “Now it’s time we started back.”

He let out the sail, exposing it to the combined rays of the three suns. Then he began to manipulate the driving levers, using his four agile hands, while Phyllis, after dismissing a last shred of doubt with an energetic shake of her velvety ears, took out her compact and, in view of their return to port, touched up her dear little chimpanzee muzzle.

THE END